Why I Bake

They all ask me why I like baking I don't ever know how to answer How do I explain the feeling Of making something out of nothing? Of creating something they couldn't just to prove I can? I love it But it's weird, given that I hate perfection I hate measuring perfectly So I prove them wrong by doing it my way A splash of this, a spoonful of that It turns out so good, too Why do they doubt me? I have proven myself over and over and over Every bit of doubt is a well aimed arrow Piercing me where I am weak Most comments I forget and forgive But some are unforgivable Apparently I weigh too much, but I am also too skinny When I wear what I want, I dress "too much like a boy" Then I wear a cute outfit and they ask who I'm trying to impress They'll hate me anyway Even if I was the prettiest The trendiest, the coolest So I bake I love it Please don't hate on me When I'm quiet, I'm at my lowest Positivity helps But it is so easy to glare and scowl Smiling takes effort And God, I haven't smiled much lately I've just been a silent, solemn presence I'm really not that spiritual But lately I have been clinging to my faith That says something, doesn't it? Even God can't help me enough though If He really hears me, that is Just let me bake Silently Peacefully A break from my undying thoughts Creating something new A light at the end of a tunnel But no, it's not the end of the tunnel It is simply a tiny window on the ceiling